Several months ago, around graduation time, I wrote about how we live life in moments, short little spurts of time. Time passes without much notice for most of us. We live our lives and follow the same patterns today that we followed yesterday and that we'll likely follow tomorrow.
It is those brief moments in time when a sudden shift turns us on a dime that define us. As I approach one such moment in time I find myself feeling detached from my surroundings. I feel a growing disconnect in everything I do.
My college roommate, PJ, was talking to me the other day. He cleans pools, well, just in the summer time. He was telling me how hard it is to work in the neighborhood where his former girlfriend used to live. He said he felt like a ghost of his former self, taking a tour of his former life, detached from it all, but still well aware of what that place once meant to him.
I feel such a gap growing as I go about my daily routines. I feel more and more like an outsider while walking to work. I feel like a tourist riding on the train. I don't see the point in eating Japanese food anymore, even though I still do. I'm not really sure why.
Maybe it's all that I can do.



